


A Rose At Your Mouth

by inkblot_fiend



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Irresponsible Use of Magic, M/M, Multi, TV Canon, Threesome, faerie threesome, not quite informed consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 13:33:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4707770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkblot_fiend/pseuds/inkblot_fiend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There was the spark of an idea in his endless eyes. It was a look that had never done anyone any good, and Stephen could not begin to imagine what terrible thought had taken root in the Gentleman's mind"</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Rose At Your Mouth

 

Though he might not say as much to his master, Stephen Black enjoyed his visits to Starecross. He liked the quiet of the place, the solitude and the faint crackle of benign magic that lurked in the wainscotting. It was a singular delight for him to open his window every morning to behold the rolling moors, their ancient shapes a soothing balm to his shredded soul.

As was only fitting, a sharp twist of guilt accompanied his anticipation of every visit, as he knew that he must stand by and witness Lady Pole's distress once more. He had never felt so useless as he did in the presence of that lady and her anguish. But he could bear the guilt, as long as he was able to breathe the good free air, at least for a time.

There was much ritual associated with his visiting. It was his habit to arrive early in the morning and to be shown to the Lady's room by young Mr Segundus, who would briefly outline her progress since he had last seen her. He told of the books he had read to her (the Lady herself lacking the focus to read for herself) and the development of the little herb garden she tended with Mr Honeyfoot. Stephen would listen intently and politely refrain from commenting upon Mr Segundus' habit of prattling when nervous.

Stephen did not know why Mr Segundus should continue to be nervous in his presence. Most Englishmen overcame their fear of him with exposure and those that did not could rely upon their natural sense of superiority to mask their nerves. Mr Segundus seemed to be unable to do either and was generally strung tight as a piano wire until he could leave Stephen alone with Lady Pole. It had only worsened since Mr Segundus had quite breathlessly confessed he could see the rose at Stephen's mouth and Stephen, who would like to give the young gentleman the benefit of the doubt, hoped that it was a fear of the enchantment, not his skin, that made Mr Segudus so skittish.

On this visit he sat with the Lady for two hours as she held his hand and they shared between them the deep silence of understanding.

It was when he sat down with Mr Honeyfoot and Mr Segundus for a late luncheon (Mr Honeyfoot always insisted that Stephen join them, and would not hear of him taking his meal in the kitchen as was proper) that he felt the prickle of tension down his spine that meant his Gentleman had come to visit.

“What do they feed you Stephen?” he asked, draping a hand on Stephen's shoulder and eyeing his bowl with contempt. “Does it please you?”

“This is an excellent soup, Mr Honeyfoot,” Stephen said truthfully, “I would very much like the recipe, if your cook will spare it.”

Mr Honeyfoot beamed and the Gentleman made a noise of approval. Mr Segundus winced a little and hunched over his food.

“Well now. This is certainly an unusual specimen. So sensitive to the movement of the worlds around him.” The Gentleman left Stephen and went to stand in front of Mr Segundus, eyeing him as a cat might a trembling mouse. He traced the aid in front of Segundus' nose with a finger. “Small and plain, perhaps, but with some measure of beauty. Do you agree?”

The Gentleman looked at Stephen with an expression that invited comment, and so Stephen contemplated Mr Segundus' profile with a critical eye. He was angular and given to poor posture, which caused him to look smaller than he might otherwise be. It seemed deliberate, as if he would prefer to go unnoticed, and indeed it had worked, for until now Stephen had not looked all that closely at Mr Segundus. There was indeed something attractive about him, which thought he could only entertain since he was completely incapable of denying his Gentleman anything he asked. Something in his thick lashes and quick movements, his bony hands and easy smile could all combine to produce something akin to beauty. If one were moved by that sort of thing.

“Do I have soup on my face, sir?”

Mr Segundus was looking at him with an expression of alarm, and Stephen shook his head quickly. “No, indeed, sir,” he said. “My apologies, I was quite lost in thought.”

The Gentleman smirked at him over Segundus' head. “Oh, Stephen,” he said in his voice of honey and gravel, “I can see that you were quite lost.”

There was the spark of an idea in his endless eyes. It was a look that had never done anyone any good, and Stephen could not begin to imagine what terrible thought had taken root in the Gentleman's mind.

It was much later that night, when the household had gone to bed and Stephen was preparing for sleep himself, when he heard a soft knock at his door. He was not expecting company, nor would he generally be called upon by any member of the staff at such an hour. Lady Pole always slept soundly, so he should not be needed.

“Who is it?” he asked at the door. When he heard no answer he sighed and opened it.

It was something of a surprise to see Mr Segundus standing in the hall with his arms wrapped around himself and a look of terror on his face. Surprise gave way to mild dread as he felt the drawing of tension that meant his faerie friend was close at hand.

“May I help you, sir?” Stephen asked, a little coolly. “It is late.”

“I … I am sorry to disturb you,” Mr Segundus said, “I only thought... that is, I hoped -”

“Do let him in, Stephen,” said the Gentleman in Stephen's ear as Mr Segundus continued to splutter in the doorway, “He is quite burning for you.”

It was then that Segundus broke off talking and looked up into Stephen's eyes for the first time in many months. Stephen was struck by the fear in Mr Segundus' eyes and by the heat that lurked beyond the terror. He found his throat too tight for talking, and so nodded and stood aside to let Mr Segundus enter.

For a moment he lingered at the threshold, nervously shifting on his feet, then seemed to summon his resolve and walked into the chamber with purpose. Stephen closed the door behind him.

The Gentleman fell into place behind Stephen so as to whisper in his ear: “Take his hands in yours.”

Stephen swallowed then did as he was bid. Mr Segundus gasped at the sudden contact, and flinched as if to pull his hands away, but Stephen held on to him. “Why do you fear me, sir?”

Segundus, who once having found the courage to look Stephen in the eye was apparently incapable of looking anywhere else, shook his head frantically, “Oh, sir, I do not! I must apologise most profoundly if I ever let you think... it was surely not my intention, rather the opposite-”

The soft scrape of a long fingernail down Stephen's cheek made him shiver slightly. “Do you see my purpose, Stephen?” the Gentleman purred into his ear. “Do you see how we might make this creature beautiful?”

Stephen watched as Segundus' throat contracted with a nervous swallow, felt the heat and faint tremor of his hands, and thought he could very well see what the Gentleman meant for them. He laced their fingers together, making plain the stark contrast between their skin. The Gentleman hummed happily behind him.

“I must say, you have a poor way of showing your feelings, sir,” Stephen said with a gentle squeeze. “I believed you found me repulsive, or at the very least unsettling.”

“Neither,” Segundus breathed, “You must believe me, I would never -”

The Gentleman caught Stephen's attention then. He had moved to stand behind Segundus and rested his hands on the young man's shoulders. “Words are well enough,” he whispered with a wicked smile, “But we must have him prove his devotion to his king.” He pressed down gently on Mr Segundus' shoulders and the young man's eyes widened briefly before he gave in to that inexorable touch and sank to his knees.

Stephen drew in a sharp breath and Segundus looked up at him with a frank and adoring gaze. “I would never,” he said again, but then seemed to lose the thread of what he had meant to say and instead slipped his hands free of Stephen's to put them upon the growing swell of his manhood.

His first instinct was to shove Mr Segundus away and insist on propriety. His position was tenuous enough, he could not hope to survive any kind of allegation against him, it would not be right, nor proper -

“Hush, Stephen,” whispered the Gentleman, leaning forwards so his lips brushed against Stephen's. “He will do nothing against you. He only wishes to worship you. Permit him a moment in your graceful light.”

So Stephen pressed his hands down on top of Mr Segundus', let him feel the way his prick responded to such a long-denied touch. Segundus gasped and shuffled a little closer, feeling the outline of his flesh through his breeches. Stephen tipped his head back and breathed through the sensation, felt it coursing hot in his veins. When Mr Segundus leaned closer still and put his mouth where his hands had been Stephen let out a burst of air that would have been a shout were it not for his iron grip on his own reactions.

“May I?” Segundus asked when he pulled away. He toyed with the buttons of Stephen's breeches, looking up at him with dark, heated eyes.

Stephen glanced up at the Gentleman, who smiled and kissed him, a soft touch of lips that felt like the cool caress of rain. “Let him,” the Gentleman said, “But do not let him complete you, my beautiful Stephen. There is much I would see tonight.”

Stephen nodded, licking his lips to chase the taste of the Gentleman, and Segundus let out a small cry below him and began to wrench at his buttons.

“I, I have thought about this,” he said, and Stephen could see the tips of his ears turning pink. “I have thought I might do it at the most inconvenient times. When you looked at me tonight, sir, it took all my conviction not to go to my knees right there.”

A groan escaped Stephen at that, and at the same moment Segundus drew his heavy prick into the cool air of the bedchamber. Segundus looked at it for a moment, a little dumbstruck, then slid back the foreskin to touch his tongue to the very tip of it.

“Ah!” Stephen said, and then could make no more sounds at all as Mr Segundus opened his mouth and took several inches of Stephen's cock within. He feared if he allowed himself to make any noise he would not be able to prevent himself from shouting loud enough to wake the entire house.

“Yes,” hissed the Gentleman into his ear, dragging his fingers into Stephen's cravat to untie it. “See how he adores you. How he gives himself for you.”

Stephen looked down to watch Mr Segundus move his head back and forth in a slow but knowing rhythm. He threaded his fingers into Segundus' hair, drawing a muffled whimper out of him as he followed the motion of his head, not to exert pressure but only to feel how the other man moved.

“If only you could see how your pleasure is writ upon your face,” said the Gentleman, “Oh, Stephen, you would feel then as I do.”

Stephen looked at his Gentleman, and saw that there was a rather ungentlemanly bulge in those breeches, too. “Will you? Sir?” he asked, breathless with pleasure.

“All in good time. Now, quick, take him away before he ruins everything!”

Stephen pulled back on Segundus' hair and his prick slid free of his mouth. Segundus made a small noise of disappointment. “Stand up, sir,” Stephen said, for that seemed the correct course of action.

Segundus stood shakily. His mouth was red and wet and his was panting a little for air. His eyes were dark and fixed on Stephen's lips. Stephen slid his hands into his hair again and flicked a glance at the Gentleman.

“Yes, a kiss! But be not chaste with him, dear Stephen, show him who is the master here.”

Stephen did as he was told. He plundered Segundus' mouth, pushing his tongue in forcefully, wetly, and found Segundus willing to submit to him. The young gentleman looped his arms around Stephen's neck and gave himself over completely to the kiss. When it ended he spoke against his lips in a voice of wonder, “I knew it. You _do_ taste like roses,” and Stephen was obliged to push him across the room towards the bed.

“Allow me to assist,” purred the Gentleman. There was a rustling as of wind through dense leaves and then Stephen and Segundus gasped together as they found themselves rendered completely nude.

Segundus looked up at him with wild eyes. He was slim and the skin usually hidden by his clothing was excessively pale and splotched with pink where he was blushing. He frowned at their nakedness and opened his mouth, perhaps to question it, so Stephen quieted him with a kiss and a pinch to one of his rosy nipples. Segundus let out a high moan and clutched as Stephen's shoulders as his mouth was taken anew and Stephen felt the echoes of it running down his body to throb in his prick.

The Gentleman raked his fingernails down Stephen's back and he groaned against Segundus. It was a flood of sensation and his body demanded more, more of kissing, more of touch.

“You are a generous lover, Stephen, as I knew you would be,” said the Gentleman, his breath caressing Stephen's ear. “But you need not trouble yourself so. This magician would give you everything you desired and ask nothing for himself. You are free to take him as you would like.”

“I am not free, sir,” Stephen said, smoothing a lock of hair out of Segundus' somewhat vacant eyes, “So I will ask for your direction. I will trust you in this, as in all things.”

The Gentleman groaned his approval and bit into Stephen's shoulder, making him buck forwards and groaned. He pressed his aching cock against Segundus' belly, seeking some measure of relief.

“I do not think I can,” Segundus said, closing his eyes and clinging on to Stephen's neck. “I only know that I want you, sir, I do not know how!”

Stephen blinked and the Gentleman laughed. “What a darling thing!” he said, his voice like honey and fire. “Let us have him, Stephen!”

The Gentleman pushed Stephen forwards, and Stephen pushed in turn, forcing Mr Segundus back onto the bed. He fell down on the covers with a gasp of surprise, but quickly recovered enough to smile and hold his hands out to Stephen.

Here Stephen was forced to pause. He had dreamed of returning to this moment, or one very like it, for longer than he would care to calculate, but now that it was here, now that he had a man offering himself up, he did not quite know if he could go through with it. He feared that he would be a poor lover, or that he would cause pain, or that he would simply not be wanted any longer once the act was complete. These thoughts tightened in his chest and he would have fled the room, naked as he was, were it not for the press of his Gentleman against his back.

“You must trust me, Stephen,” he said as he ran his fingertips across Stephen's chest and kissed the throbbing place on his back that had been so recently bitten. “Trust me that you are beautiful. That you are loved. And that you will bring us all such delights as your English poets would weep to experience.”

The Gentleman's words were like fire. He lunged at Segundus, pinning his wrists above his head and pushing him down with the weight of his body. He thrust his full length against the young gentleman, who gave out a sob and hooked both his legs around Stephen's waist. The faerie crawled up behind him, resting on his knees and draping himself across Stephen's back.

“I will guide you, sir,” Stephen said into Mr Segundus' ear, his words coming from some place inside him that he had never before visited. “I will make this very easy for us.”

Segundus nodded his assent and Stephen resumed kissing him, chasing out those sounds which set his heart racing and his skin prickling. He kept Mr Segundus' hands pinned and worked solely with his lips and his tongue, sucking and nibbling in equal measure. When Mr Segundus was suitably flushed with desire and arching up to get some portion of ease against Stephen's thigh he released him and began to kiss him in a long line from his throat to his navel.

“You are most inventive, Stephen,” the Gentleman whispered to him, his voice as breathless as Stephen had ever heard it. “So giving and noble in your attentions.”

Stephen bit gently at the soft skin beneath Segundus's belly button, causing him to buck up and dig his hands into the covers. The Gentleman moved so that he could see Stephen properly, his face dark and rich with longing. His eyes flicked between Stephen's face and Segundus' flushed cock.

“Will you take him in your mouth, Stephen? I think he will like it.”

Stephen smiled at both of them and then did as he was asked. The Gentleman sighed in rapture and Segundus muffled a shout in his hand. Stephen found that his years out of practice melted away and he quickly remembered how best to go about it, and if the heated whimpers from above him were any guide he had not lost his touch.

“Enough,” said the Gentleman, and Stephen pulled away with a lingering suck that set Segundus' thighs trembling. “Turn him over.”

Stephen encouraged Segundus with soft touches and gentle words and soon enough had him lying face-down on the sheets. “What would you have me do?” Stephen asked, looking up at his faerie with a small smile. He had a strong feeling he already knew and the mere thought of it made him throb.

The Gentleman smirked at him, then stroked Segundus' back, starting at his nape and running down the ridges of his spine to the delicate small of his back.

“Oh, _yes_ , that!” cried Segundus, who had arched into the Gentleman's touch like a cat.

Stephen's breath caught in his throat as the Gentleman moved his hand lower, caressing between Segundus' buttocks and then pressing rather more forcefully. Segundus' hips moved in tight little thrusts and Stephen could not help but join his hand to the Gentleman's, laying dark skin over pale and making his faerie lick his lips. It came as quite a surprise to him to find that where the Gentleman traced his fingers was left slick and wet. Stephen smeared the substance around, exploring all this secret skin, until he had covered his hand in it and felt sure he would cause no pain when he pressed the tip of his forefinger into Segundus' waiting hole.

Segundus hitched his hips up and spread his legs as he pressed his face in to the bed. His breathing was loud and heavy.

The Gentleman put his hand over Stephen's and guided him to press deeper. It went in easily, which gave Stephen a thrill of pride as he chose to attribute it to Mr Segundus' ardour for him and not any coincidental faerie magic. He pushed and thrust his digit, and then curled it when the Gentleman suggested it, drawing a long moan out of Segundus.

A second finger went in just as easily, though the third required a little gentle persuasion. Segundus was rocking his hips back and forth, desperate to seek the pleasurable sensations beyond the pain.

“Stephen,” he was saying, “ _Stephen_ I beg of you!”

The Gentleman slipped one of his own fingers between two of Stephen's and pressed down, filling Segundus as much as he could bear.

“Now, Stephen,” said the Gentleman, “Show him who is king!”

With encouragement coming from all sides Stephen found it prudent to kneel up over Segundus and permit the Gentleman to touch Stephen's prick, slicking it with same substance they had used on Segundus. He groaned at the first contact of those delicate fingers around him and bucked when the Gentleman stroked him, circled him in a hand that felt like the lingering heat of a perfect summer evening. He had to bat him away lest he finish too soon. He lined himself up at Segundus' entrance.

“My final warning, sir,” he breathed. “Only say that you do not want it, and I will go no further.”

He heard the Gentleman gasp and felt two faerie hands grip his shoulders from behind. He hooked his chin over Stephen's shoulder and licked at the sweat that had sprung up on his skin.

“I want it,” he said, “I want it very much!”

“Yes, Stephen,” gasped Segundus, “Please! Please -”

Stephen pushed in. It was hot and tight and _oh_ he could not think beyond the wonderful pressure of it. He sank into the young gentleman inch by inch, pausing to catch his breath and listen for sounds of discomfort. When he heard none he went in the rest of the way.

“Stephen,” whispered the Gentleman in his ear. “My beautiful Stephen. That's it, let me see you.”

Stephen drew most of the way out, letting his Gentleman see the whole wet length of him.

“I am going to do that for you, Stephen.”

Stephen groaned and thrust back into Segundus, making him arch his back and cry out at the sudden intrusion.

“Just like that, Stephen. You shall be worshipped from all sides. But see that you do not spend! I shall be the one to take that from you. Promise me!”

“I promise,” Stephen whispered, and he took up a shallow fucking as the Gentleman used his spell to make Stephen slick. He timed the push of his fingers with Stephen's thrusts, slipping inside him with that same lack of resistance he had found in Segundus. It was a white-hot feeling of desire that took root inside him, of taking and being taken in equal measure.

“Stephen!” cried Segundus, “I will not... I am not likely to break, sir!”

Stephen laughed and gave Segundus a firmer thrust. “Trust me. Only trust me and you shall have everything.”

Segundus only sobbed in response and tried angling his hips up to get _more_ and _deeper_ , but Stephen had mastered his body years ago and would not be baited.

In the meantime the Gentleman lined the thick head of his cock with Stephen's entrance and sank into him in one long, achingly wonderful motion. He pushed Stephen forwards, which of course pushed him with some force into Segundus, who said, “Yes! Oh, yes.”

From then on it was the Gentleman who was in control, fucking the two of them on his own terms, deep and slow, fast and hard, and everything he did to Stephen was echoed into Segundus until the three of them were as one being. Stephen burned where the Gentleman touched him, his entire body consumed by flames of love and lust. It could not be compared to human flesh, to the fragile body underneath him, it was too strong and pure, and it was surprising to Stephen that he did not feel taken so much as given, given the rarest of gifts in all the worlds. He had the attention and adoration of a faerie king.

There was a moment, when he was right on the edge of his completion, that he thought he could see them as the Gentleman did: a mass of beautiful flesh, alternating light and dark, the elegant grace of the faerie flowing into the broad strength of a man who was both king and slave, and finally the beautiful submission of the timid English magician who had so freely surrendered his body and asked for nothing but the grace of Stephen's touch.

Segundus let out a sharp cry and all his muscles contracted around Stephen as he climaxed, his emission splattering white on to Stephen's chest.

“Do you see? Oh, he did not even need to be touched!” hissed the Gentleman.

It was this thought, this burning, brilliant thought, that did it: Stephen made an undignified noise of his own and pinned Segundus to the bed to finish inside him.

“Ah!” cried the Gentleman, who was apparently so surprised by the sensation of Stephen's orgasm that he quite ran out of anything else to say. He leaned close, wrapped his arms around Stephen and kissed him, owning his mouth as much as any other part of him. To Stephen's surprise he then pulled out, leaving Stephen quite bereft.

“What do you need?” Stephen asked him, turning to cup his face in both hands.

“I am not a mortal thing,” said the Gentleman with a hint of sadness. “Faeries have no use for reproduction. Pleasure, yes, but not human pleasure. _You_ are my pleasure, Stephen. Everything you do makes me exceedingly happy that I have found you. I want for nothing.”

Stephen felt a rush of warmth towards his Gentleman and kissed him delicately, as if kissing were as much a form of art as dance.

“I rather need... do you have a wash cloth?”

Stephen started at Segundus' voice. He had almost forgotten he was not alone with his Gentleman! He rolled away from Segundus, who had not moved save to regain his breath, and went to fetch a cloth from his basin.

“My apologies, sir,” he said as he handed the cloth to Segundus. “I was somewhere else for a moment.”

Segundus nodded and sat up to clean himself.

The Gentleman sprawled naked on the bed behind him, smirking as he watched. “I hope he was satisfactory for you, Stephen. I think he enjoyed your mortal pleasures, on the whole.”

With the fog of lust dissipated Stephen could no longer feel that spark of enjoyment. All he felt was tired, and very foolish for letting himself be compromised. He had handed Mr Segundus his entire life without any kind of understanding between them. This thought made him feel sick to his stomach.

“I hope, sir,” he began, but the Gentleman reached over Segundus to press a finger to his lips.

“He would never be able to harm you,” he said with an indulgent smile. “Even if he wanted to. I would not permit it.” The faerie then leaned over Segundus to bestow on Stephen a kiss like the touch of a feather or the whisper of a breeze. With it came a feeling of pleasant tiredness; not exhaustion, but the soft sort of tiredness that might be dispelled with a good cup of tea.

When the kiss was ended Stephen blushed and looked down at Segundus, who was gazing up at him with something like reverence. His eyelids were heavy and his hands trembled.

“I think we are not alone,” he said in a slow voice, as if it took considerable effort to arrange these particular words in a sensible order.

The Gentleman curled up behind Stephen and trailed a hand over all his bare skin. “Shall we tell him, Stephen? Shall we tell him you are a king, and take him for your own loyal subject?”

Stephen touched Segundus' lips, following their outline and smiling slightly. “There is only you and I here, sir,” he said. He kissed Segundus, a simple touch of flesh meant to soothe and quieten. Segundus made a small, happy sound and the Gentleman huffed.

He felt the touch of a cool faerie hand on the back of his neck and in another moment Stephen found he had sunk through himself into sleep.

But of course, he did not really sleep. It was a very peculiar sensation, to stand at his own bedside and watch himself slumbering. Segundus smiled and very carefully traced Stephen's hairline with a finger.

“We have kept them waiting long enough,” said the Gentleman from behind him. “They will miss us at the dance.”

Stephen glanced down at himself and saw that he was dressed, and that his Gentleman was restored to his usual sparkling attire. “Indeed,” Stephen said, and he held out his arm to the faerie.

The Gentleman made a noise of surprise and then looped his arm into Stephen's. “My dear,” he said, “What a beautiful pair we make.”

Stephen spared one last look back to Segundus, who was curling up with his back to Stephen's sleeping body and pulling an arm around his waist. He wondered if the young gentleman would have the sense to leave before morning, and hoped, rather to his own surprise, that he would not.

 

 


End file.
